Potential Reasons Why My Rapist Raped Me
Because he lost his need
inside a girl-child’s womb.Because he wanted the cut of pink meat
between my thighs, blood-soaked.Because he confused the smell of baby skin
with the smell of his wife’s wet cunt.Because when he was a little boy, he liked to play with dolls,
and someone punched him in the stomach for it.Because he likes to punch dolls in the stomach.
Because when he was a little boy,
his neighbor raped him.Because maybe it was his stepfather,
actually, or the local priest.Because I was raped and I’m
not a rapist, so that doesn’t—Because it’s easier not
to finish that sentence.Because he watched too much porn.
Because that doesn’t make
sense, either, if you think—Because it’s easier not
to finish that sentence.Because his genes are broken.
Because he might’ve been on drugs.
Because the vast majority
of people on drugs don’t rape children,
and if genes controlled everything—Because shut up.
Because shut up.
Because there has to be
a fucking reason.Because there has to be
a fucking reason that isn’t
me.
